Dream Island Obsessional Park
by Booster
Summary: In my dreams, he waits. He watches. He prepares. The boy that haunts my nightmares is real...What happens, then, when I can't wake up? Why have I become so...paranoid?
1. Expectation

"**You must not run away...You must not turn your back on him for a second...He comes for those who have been driven into a corner with no way out...You must not talk about him...You must not think about him...Rumors sustain him...Imagination...Paranoia nurtures him!"**

-Anonymous radio broadcast, heard on the eve before the destruction of Tokyo.

**DREAM ISLAND OBSESSIONAL PARK**

---

_In my dreams, I see an amusement park…_

_It's not one of those fancy theme parks you see today. It's one of those old Coney Island-type parks. A pier. A boardwalk. At night._

_You rarely see places like these anymore._

_I stand still, observing the main entrance with a mixed sense of awe and unease. Electric lights are strung around on aged wooden poles, the only other source of illumination from the flashing rides, booths, and large spotlights that shine upon the entrance. Above the turnstiles is a dirty neon sign, on top of which perches a wooden fresco of a bizarre creature. Some sort of pink, dog-like character. Its huge painted eyes seem to be staring at me. No wonder I feel unnerved._

_The sounds of screaming, laughter, and music entice me out of my wowed state. I pass beneath the neon sign, beneath the creepy dog. The humming green letters read _Dream Island Park. _Huh._

_As I pass through the empty turnstiles, I get a good look at the midway, lined with booths and packed with people. The people seem shadowy and indistinct. Somehow, I can't see their faces or details about them. But I keep moving forward, as if by some other force._

_It's about here I realize this is a dream. The odd part is, I don't mind. I continue to glide down the pier, taking in the sites. Amongst the crowd, I begin to see faces._

_I pass a hot-dog stand, where a shifty-eyed, slightly overweight man stands out in line, jabbering away on a cell-phone._

_I pass a merry-go-round, the horses rising and falling in time with the fairground organ. Two boys, one thin and wearing a yellow baseball cap, the other pudgy and black-haired, ride by, laughing and smiling. The skinnier kid's teeth glimmer as the light hits them._

_I pass what looks to be a Tunnel of Love, where a woman with short red hair, glasses, and wearing a plain green dress emerges alone from a tunnel on one of the boats, a soft smile on her lips._

_More and more people begin to appear among the opaque masses as I move along. A portly, long faced man giving a prize-won doll to his daughter, a laughing teenager wearing a white hat. An old woman, hooting and howling with excitement as she rides the bumper cars. An unshaven, trench coated man strolling along with his right arm wrapped around the shoulders of a tired-looking woman, both of them chuckling. They all look happy and contented, as if they didn't have a care in the world._

_Boy, what I wouldn't give to feel like that._

_Finally, I see what I've been floating toward. A wooden roller coaster towers overhead, silhouetted against the full moon and clear night sky. The words _Red Lightning _stand bold and clear on the side of the first hill in great red letters. I can't help but stare transfixed at the sight._

"_Are you ready for a ride?"_

_I stop looking up at the sound of the voice, and I realize I'm at the coaster station. The source of the voice is a squat old man, standing just to my left with his arms crossed behind his back. Just behind him is a red and white coaster train, completely empty, waiting for me to step inside. The man looks old enough that he'd need to stay in a permanent hospital, his face horribly wrinkled and splotched with aged spots, and his long gray hair flapping in the ocean breeze. He's dressed, however, in a swallowtail suit, complete with red bowtie and top hat. He smiles at me, revealing a few missing teeth._

"_Are you ready for a ride?" he repeats, gesturing to the empty train with a gnarled hand. I can't help but feel a little confused. There's something eerie about him. And yet, I nod wordlessly, and step into the front car of the train. The old man, still smiling, pulls the lap bar down over me, which I grip with both hands. I had forgotten that I hate roller coasters, but I couldn't open my mouth to object._

_The elderly man shuffles over to big lever poking out of the station platform, and grabs a hold of it with his bony hands. Just as I think that the old coot is nuts to even consider doing such a task at his apparent age, he grunts and pulls the lever down with ease. The train gives a jolt and begins to move out of the station. Through the clattery noise, I hear him say "Have fun!"_

_Why did this dream have to involve roller coasters? I keep reminding myself that this isn't real as the car makes a left turn and begins to clatter up the lift hill._

_Up here, I can see the entire park, which is indeed situated on a pier over a vast and dark sea, glimmering beautifully in the light of the moon. It is a grand sight, all of those twinkling lights and whirling rides in miniature. Below, the shadowy people look like little black insects as the train clanks higher and higher up the lift. As I gaze at the serene scene, my fear of thrill rides forgotten for the moment, I catch sight of one distinct figure amidst the surreal throng of people._

_From here, it seems strange I can see so many details of this person. Then again, this is a dream. It's a girl, perhaps in her late teens or early twenties, with shoulder-length black hair, a pink long-sleeved blouse, and white skirt. Clutched to her chest with both arms is a doll, the same pink dog from the gate. Its round eyes seem to be focused on the woman holding her. As for the woman…She stares right at me, and our eyes meet. Her expression is blank, but her eyes seem afraid and sad. This is the only unhappy face I've seen in this park._

_Distracted as I am, I'm barely prepared for being tapped on the shoulder from somewhere behind._

_I nearly jump out of my seat. Angrily, I whip my head around to look behind me. My anger turns to shock very quickly. Hadn't the car been empty when I got on?_

_Sitting in the previously empty seat behind me is a kid, probably in his pre-teens. His eyes are hidden by the brim of a red baseball cap, the front decorated with strange pins. Tufts of brown, curly hair poke out from the sides. He's dressed in a dark gray hooded sweatshirt, and he holds a terribly dented yellow baseball bat across his lap. His mouth carries the ghost of a smile._

_All other sensations fade, The lights of the midway, the jostling of the coaster, the smells of popcorn and cotton candy; all replaced by a deep, gut feeling. I don't know why, but this kid…scares me._

_The coaster reaches the top of the hill._

_The kid grins, revealing a set of pearly white teeth._

_The car plummets…_

---

You know that weird feeling when you fall asleep and wake up feeling like you just fell?

Then you know how I felt.

I sat bolt upright in bed, panting and shuddering, my eyes unable to focus in the near darkness of the room. The images of the dream I just had were still fresh in my mind. It had all seemed so real, and I could recap the whole thing vividly. Every little detail stuck. I'd never had a dream like before…Especially not one that freaked me out so much.

When my breathing finally did calm, I realized my sheets were damp with sweat. It was fairly cool in the room, thanks to the air conditioner that, I observed, was humming along quietly in the background, the only other sound my shallow breaths. Shaking my head, I swung my legs across and stumbled out of bed, across the dark room, and into the bathroom, where my right hand fumbled across the wall until I finally found the light switch.

I recoiled slightly as the overhead light came on, shielding my tired eyes with my hand. While I waited for my eyesight to adjust, my thoughts once again returned to my strange dream. The two things that truly stuck out, clearest of all my memories, were the nervous young woman and the creepy kid. That kid…I shuddered, even then, at the thought of him. I didn't know why. He had triggered something frightening within my psyche, I guess.

Sighing, I finally reached over to the tap, turning on the cold water. I splashed some on my face, then looked at my reflection in the mirror. There I am. Andrew Bridge. A young man just coming into his new age of seventeen. Still somewhat pale, still with ever-untidy black hair. Fairly well muscled, but a little skinny. I realized how stupid I looked dressed in my white tank top and red boxers. Smiling, I flexed at my reflection, taking some small pride in my physical shape.

"Hello, handsome," I said in a hoarse whisper, arching an amused eyebrow at the mirror.

My reflection smiled ruefully back.

Everyone's a critic.

Chuckling, I stepped back out of the bathroom, observing my dim room from the light behind me. Everything looked in order. My computer sat dormant on my desk, switched off. My clarinet case leaned against my dresser. Posters of various Jazz artists-Louie Armstrong, Charlie Parker, Ella Fitzgerald, among others-lined my bedroom walls. The closed blinds on my window shifted slowly in the breeze coming in through the screen behind them. The electric clock on my bedside table read three thirty-four. Lovely. Well, at least it was a weekend, and I didn't have to go anywhere.

My head still buzzed with memories of my bad dream. I groaned. At this rate, I'd never get back to sleep without distracting myself a little first. I could have picked up a book, but instead decided to maybe zone out in front of the TV until I felt tired again. With this in mind, I tip-toed downstairs and plopped myself onto the couch in the dark living room, grabbing the remote and flipping the idiot box on.

Something leapt silently onto the cushion beside me, letting out a short mew. Schneider, my orange tabby cat, is a very interesting animal, acting more like a friendly dog than a cat sometimes. His endearing traits include begging at the table, rolling over on command, and licking your face as a sign of affection…when he feels like it. Smiling, I scratched him between his ears. He purred contentedly and curled up beside me. Out of everyone in the family, he likes me the best. Never scratched me once.

My attention turned back to the TV, where the news was currently going. Why the channel was set to the twenty-four hour news network, I can only guess. My dad is obsessed with keeping with current events. And living in the small town we do, he keeps an eye on the news. The woman on screen seemed to be in the middle of a big story, as she spoke in low, serious tones. I was about to change the channel on it until I heard what she was saying.

"…and no word yet on the exact cause, although the Japanese government is already preparing for the worst." She said, ruffling the papers in he hands before she spoke again. "For those of you just coming in, we're reporting on a large, devastating catastrophe that has destroyed most of Tokyo, Japan. The city was apparently hit by some sort of large explosion a few hours ago, although this is under speculation. Communications to and from Tokyo were cut off when the disaster hit, and it's only just now that we're getting any information. There have been no eye-witness reports and no military involvement yet. It seems that this has caught just about everyone, including the Japanese government, by surprise."

A deep feeling of worried fear washed over me as I watched the flickering screen. I sat in silent horror, unable to move. Schneider, snoozing peacefully, twitched his front paws in his sleep, perhaps sensing my tension somewhere. My dim thoughts all clicked together after a few seconds, and I hastily stood up, waking the cat from his slumber. I can only imagine that he glowered after me as I charged back upstairs (my parents could sleep through a hurricane, though I wasn't concerned by that at the moment) and into my room, where I immediately began digging through my backpack, which crumpled sat between my bed and my dresser. A few seconds later, my right hand closed around the small metal and plastic object I sought. _Thank God my cell was where I left it._

The tiny screen cast a small green glow on my worried face as I navigated through the lists of numbers. Finally, I hit the "Call" button and pressed the phone to my ear.

_Ring…Ring…_I silently hoped that I was just being paranoid. _Ring…_

… "Hello?" came a feminine voice.

My panic subsided a bit. "Emma! It's me! Are you alright?"

"Huh? Why? I'm just fine." Her voice sounded a bit tired. "What's wrong?"

"You're not still in Japan, are you?" I asked.

A chuckle. "I thought I had told you I was coming home tomorrow. We're stopped over in California right now." Her voice now took on a concerned tone. "Andrew, what is it? You wouldn't be calling me this late if it wasn't important. What is it, like, three in the morning where you are?"

"I was just…worried, that's all. I heard about that explosion in Tokyo, and-"

"You heard about that?" She sounded surprised. "News does travel fast. Yeah. We're fine. We were well on our way back when that happened."

"And your grandmother?"

"She's fine too. We had already gotten her settled in Kyoto before any of this happened. Good thing too. Grandma was saying how nice it was to finally get out of the big city. I don't have any other relatives living in Tokyo, thank god."

I let out a huge sigh of relief. For a little while, images of attending my best friend's funeral had floated, unchecked, through my mind. These, fortunately, were put aside with the knowledge that Emma was fine, and on her way back.

"Anyway," she said, "I'm glad we're not there while that mess is going on. I can't imagine what those poor people in Tokyo are going through."

"Yeah," I replied simply, still at a bit of loss for words to describe the current disaster.

"But I had such a great time!" she continued. "You'll have to come with me someday. I know you'd love it there. I have so many stories to tell you when I get back."

I smiled. I was still envious of her being able to travel to Japan. One of the things we both had in common was an interest in Japan, it's culture, and anything else. Probably sparked by the fact that we both spent a lot of our childhood watching anime together.

"I'm looking forward to it," I said. "When will you be back?"

"Tomorrow evening, I think," she answered. "Oh! And I got you a souvenir. It's the cutest little doll I've ever seen. It's name's Maromi. I'll give it to you when I see you next, okay?"

"Sure. And you'll have to fill me in on everything. Anyway, I think we're both tired. I'll let you get some rest."

"Alright. And I appreciate the fact that you were worried about me. I'll see you later."

I blushed slightly. "Sure thing. Bye."

"Bye," Click.

Putting the phone away, I shook my head and grinned to myself. What a weird night this has been, with that bizarre dream and the television report. My curiosity, piqued as it was by the news of the mysterious catastrophe, would have to wait until the morning, as I was beginning to feel tired again. I climbed back into bed and fell, almost instantly, into a deep sleep. However, more dreams came to me. The boy with the twisted golden bat stood, with a pair of gold rollerblades on his feet, in an open, sunlit field, laughing silently until the morning.

---

**In a dark, cluttered room, a computer screen flickers to life.**

**Displayed on the iridescent monitor is this:**

Enter Username: goumahunter34

Enter Password: ------

Processing...

Welcome, goumahunter34. Please enter your search query below.

: maromi

Searching...

1 match(s) found to keyword "maromi":

shonenbatshonenbatshonenbatshonenbat  
shonenbatshonenbatshonenbatshonenbat  
lilslugger MA lilslugger  
lilslugger RO lilslugger  
lilslugger MI lilslugger  
shonenbatshonenbatshonenbatshonenbat  
shonenbatshonenbatshonenbatshonenbat

1o2n3e4a5n6d789goldenmonkey9t8h7e6s5a4m3e21

---

**Hello, everyone! If you took the time to read this, thank you. I tried my best. Things may start off a little slowly in the first couple of chapters, but it sets things in motion, so please bear with me. First off, I do not own Paranoia Agent. If I did, I wouldn't be anywhere as good a series as it is. Thank you very much for the wonderful series, Kon-sensei!**

**Anyways, the story idea first came to me mere minutes after watching the Final Episode. I thought about it for a long time, and developed what I hope will be a story good enough to bare the name "Paranoia Agent". Another big thank-you goes out to TURMOIL and Terryllennium****, who's fantastic works have helped spark my ambition to write this story. If either of you guys are reading this, I want you to know that you have my respect.**

**Finally, I'd like to ask for your Reveiws, everyone. It helps keep an author going. Comments, criticisms, whatever. All is appreciated.**

**Stay tuned! Chapter 2 is in the works. For now, farewell!**

_-Booster_**  
**


	2. Sub Usual

**DREAM ISLAND OBSESSIONAL PARK**

**SECOND CHAPTER: SUB-USUAL **_  
_

_In my dreams, I see a parking lot…   
_

_ Sure. More spectacular things have happened. But a parking lot?   
_

_ The waning sun covers the area in an orange glow, while the shadows around me lengthen with the onset of night. The parking lot is empty, as well as the street on my left. A few plain, uninteresting white buildings stand nearby. It's a city, but one I've never seen before.   
_

_ Ahead, I see a set of steps leading to the glass doors of a building. I assume that it's a hospital, seeing as a large red cross stands on an arch above the steps. It strikes me as odd that there's not a soul around. No people, no cars. Not even birds in the few bare, spindly trees I see. I'm completely alone.   
_

_ This is a weird dream.   
_

_ Then, something pierces the silence. The very quiet sound of something scraping against the pavement, like chalk on a sidewalk. I can barley make out the noise, but it's there. Blinking, I look around.   
_

_ It's the drawings at my feet that grab my attention next. Sprawling, complicated etchings in white chalk, spreading out and away from me in a snakelike curl. The scribbles seem to be hundreds of numbers, symbols, and Japanese kanji all massed together, like some complex equation. My eyes follow the ever-growing trail of sketches, and my feet soon after. It winds back and forth across the pavement like a wave, getting thinner and thinner as it goes.   
_

_ The source of the sound, as well as the bizarre markings, is a hunched man who seemed to have just appeared in front of the hospital steps. His slivery hair, glowing slightly in the setting sunlight, reminds me of the old man I'd seen before. But he's different. And although the man, dressed in blue pajamas, looks old, I can tell by the way his right hand scrawls out the ends of the equation and by the condition of his skin that he's probably in his thirties. His face is somewhat hidden by his hair, and he continues to feverishly scribble the strange…thing on the ground. He doesn't acknowledge me being there, even as I step up beside him and watch over his shoulder.   
_

_ As I stare, he puts down a couple of symbols, the draws an equal sign. His hand hovers over the empty spot, ready to put in his answer to the confusing calculation. That hand is trembling.   
_

_ I hear him gasp, and his head lifts enough to where I can see his face. Sweat clings to the man's brow, and his eyes seem to vibrate with worry. How can anyone look both young and old at the same time? This is the impression I get by looking at him. It doesn't make sense.   
In the distance, I hear a new sound. A rhythmic, rolling sound.   
_

_ Rollerblades?   
_

_ I look up. The sound fades away as soon as I do. The parking lot and the streets beyond are still empty. For a moment, I wait for something to happen. Then, shrugging, I look back down.   
_

_ In my shock, I take a step back. The man is gone. In his place, crouched just like he was, is the creepy bat-wielding kid. His cap is still pulled low over his face, and his crooked bat is held across his left shoulder by his left hand. His feet are adorned with golden in-line skates. Both bat and skates glimmer unnaturally in the fading light.   
_

_ The boy finishes chalking down the answer, slowly lifting the chalk away. He turns his head upward a bit, in my direction, and smiles. I still can't see his eyes, but I get a horrible feeling through me at that impish grin. My eyes now wander to the numbers the kid put down.   
_

_It equals 1776. _

---

My eyes snapped open, and I found myself staring up at my bedroom ceiling, soft light from the window casting shadows of the blinds across it.

I sat up slowly, putting a hand to my forehead as I did so. Although I felt calm, the last bits of my dream still clung to the front of my mind, appearing on the back of my eyelids as I waited, like a movie projection. It had been more clear, more vivid then the first dream I had seen the bat-boy in. And that had been almost two years ago to the date, yet I still remembered the park, the faces, the coaster, the mirth-filled smile…

Two years ago to the date. The night that Tokyo had been wiped out by a mysterious explosion. Of course it was a big deal, even after they had confirmed that there had somehow been no loss of life. Not a single fatality. It was an enigma that even now kept the experts guessing.

Sighing, I got up and prepared to go through my morning routine of getting showered, dressed, and eating breakfast before I headed of for classes. College studies had only gotten tougher since the autumn had rolled around, and I was barely scraping by in most of my subjects as it was. Fortunately, the courses I truly enjoyed, Philosophy among them, were going very well. I was glad that things had gotten a little more challenging from these subjects.

As I rummaged through my dresser, looking for something to wear, my eyes fell upon the doll that I had thrown in one of the empty drawers. Maromi stared up at me from its slouched position near the back, its overly large and innocent eyes seeming to bore into me. Emma had given it to me when she had returned from Japan. I had hid my shock as best as I could, for I had seen the same character in my dream the night before. I was slightly reassured when she had mentioned it was extremely popular in Japan, and I just assumed I had seen it somewhere before and not remembered it. Yet still, after my nightmare, the doll gave me the creeps.

I smirked to myself. Here it was, sitting alone in a dark corner for a couple years. I almost felt sort of bad for the dog-like critter. Call it what you will, I have a soft spot for stuffed animals. I patted Maromi on the head before closing the drawer, and continued my search for a proper outfit.

Once I had gotten dressed (a simple black T-shirt and jeans), I went over to my window and opened the blinds, letting in the light and allowing me the great view. Coltin is a small harbor town, surrounded by coastal pine forests and cut off from any major highways. It's a nice, quaint little place. Most of the stores here are independent, and you'd have to drive a good ways away before hitting any sort of city. From my window, I can look down the house-lined hill that is our street, past the golden-leafed oak trees, and see the Atlantic ocean, as well as the historic red lighthouse that has become our town's landmark. Sure, New England has tons of lighthouses. But we love ours just as much as other counties love theirs.

I opened my window and let the crisp autumn air caress my face. The sky was a clear blue, broken by nice cottony clouds here and there. The sea shimmered in the morning light, and a few sailboats were already out on the waves. Our town is one of the lucky few built on along the only thirteen-mile coastline of New Hampshire, us being right on the state line between here and Maine.

"Hey! Andrew!"

Looking down toward the street, I saw Emma standing just below, smiling and waving up at me. Emma Ryan and I have known each other since we were seven, and we've been best friends ever since. We have so much in common, sometimes it's almost scary. Name something I'm into, and she'll probably be into it too. Emma is one of the most interesting people I've ever known.

I smiled at her. "Hi, Emm! I'll be down in a sec!"

"It had better only take that long," she called, putting her hands on her hips and tapping her foot, although her smirk never left her face. She was dressed plaid flannel shirt and a long green skirt. Her long, light brown hair was tied up in a ponytail. "And grab a sweatshirt or something! It's nippy out this morning!"

Taking her advice, I grabbed my red hoodie that had been thrown across my computer desk yesterday before heading downstairs to the front door. Both my parents were on a month's vacation to see relatives in Florida, so I had the house pretty much to myself. As I passed the living room, I spotted the clock on the wall. 9:25. No wonder Emma was in a hurry.

She was already there when I opened the door. "Good morning," I said, putting on a smile. "How come you're wearing glasses today?"

Emma reached up and adjusted said glasses. "What? Do you think I look nerdy or something?" She stuck her tongue out at me. Then she giggled. One thing we had in common is the two of us never lost that teasing sense of humor.

I chuckled. "No. They make you look dignified," I replied. She did look pretty cute with glasses, although I wouldn't say that to her face. "I was just curious, that's all."

"One can't wear contacts forever," she said. "Anyway, we'd better start walking soon. I don't want to be late, and I'm not going to let you be late either."

_Ugh._ "I haven't even had breakfast yet," I moaned. My stomach rumbled in agreement.

"Then grab a banana or something," Emma chided. "Beside, I've got something cool to tell you on the way."

Muttering incoherently, I went back into the house, grabbed a banana and a breakfast bar, and dodged Schneider as he passed through. He gave me a look before sauntering off into the kitchen. A minute later, me and Emma began walking along the empty neighborhood streets toward the Coltin Community College, which was within a few blocks of my house.

"It's been almost two years today, right?"

"Huh?" I said, dodging a pile of trash bags someone had set out on the sidewalk. "What do you…Ooh. The Tokyo explosion."

I couldn't see her face. She was looking away from me and across the street, apparently at some crows that were perched in a tree. She nodded, than turned to look at me. I was relieved to see that she had a happy expression on.

"Well, they're just about done rebuilding the city," she exclaimed. "Grandma sent me an email last night saying that she went into the area recently to see some friends, and she says that things will look a lot better when they're finished in a couple months."

"That's good to hear," I answered, folding my hands behind my head as I walked. "At first, I thought they'd never recover. It's a good thing no one died. How lucky is that?"

There was a pause between us. Silences like this always make me feel a little awkward, because there's this underlying sense that we both have something on our minds, but either fail to bring it up or refuse to do so.

Finally, Emma spoke. "Anyway, grandma was hoping I could come visit again. She said she'd provide the plane fare, but she doesn't have enough for the whole family. Money is sort of tight for her right now. So, it'll just be me and one other person this time."

"Lucky," I sighed. I'm so envious of her having a relative living in Japan. Emma's grandmother had moved there in 1989. She had fallen in love with the country when she had lived there briefly as a teenager. That was shortly after the World War II bombings, and she had gone over to try and help those affected by it.

"So," I continued, taking my arms down and folding them across my chest, "who's going with you? I know your older brother and you are pretty close, and…"

"Actually," she cut in, but suddenly looked away from me and down at the pavement, "I was kinda hoping…you could come." She was blushing furiously.

I stopped moving, a little dumbstruck. A lifelong dream was coming true. Emma also stopped a little ahead and turned to look back at me. I admit that, at the time, I probably looked pretty stupid, with my jaw hanging open.

"I…You…You mean it?" I asked, looking her in the eye with awe. Her embarrassed expression was replaced by a sly smile. She nodded once, and I silly grin spread across my face.

The next thing I knew, I had wrapped her in a bear hug.

"You're welcome," she laughed. "But damn it, Andrew, get off me!"

Despite what she said, she returned the hug. I wasn't going to complain.

---

"The human mind is a powerful and often misunderstood thing. Science has only gone so far as to determine how it works. Every so often, an individual will develop powers of the mind that others do not have. Sometimes, they're not even aware of this themselves. The results of these powers vary, and can have good or ill effects. For example, poltergeist activity…"

Mr. Kondo's lecture, on a subject I normally find very intriguing, seemed to just float in one ear and out the other. My distracted mind was only paying attention so far, my thoughts still lingering on Emma's invitation. Ahead of me, across the sea of attentive heads, the man had his back to the gathered students as he began to scribble on the chalkboard. The quiet sound sent the images of the previous night's dream to the front of my vision, but I blinked them away. I tried, once again, to focus.

"…although oftentimes attributed with ghosts or spirits, is also believed to be caused by bursts of uncontrolled psychic energy. Usually, this activity is tied to or centered around an adolescent boy or girl. Poltergeist activity manifests as either sounds or objects moving around on their own…"

My eyes wandered the room absently, eventually locking onto Emma. She was sitting a few seats away to my left, and had her head bent low. Probably taking notes, I guessed. She carries an old battered notebook wherever she goes. It's mostly random things on every page. She told me she plans to be an author one day. I've seen some of her short stories, and they're very good.

"…in the case of an eleven-year old boy living in Scotland. When things started, the family would notice objects had been moved to strange places during the night, as well as soft knocking sounds. Starting out small, the activities steadily grew…"

I couldn't stop thinking how nice her hair looked all of a sudden. She was positioned in such a way that a shaft of light from one of the fogged windows fell across her auburn tresses. Little dust motes drifted through the shaft in a dreamlike fashion. Smiling inwardly, I couldn't tear away from the scene. People have told me before that I have an eye for little details. True.

"…However, one theory suggests that poltergeist activity is caused when the person is somehow distressed, weather they realize it or not. Psychic bursts of this case can take shape from the smallest upset, so miniscule that the person may not even remember it mentally. One instance of this happened to a young Russian girl, who had been wrenched away from her home…"

I blinked again to clear my head, a little agitated with myself. For one, I needed to concentrate, which seemed to be extremely hard for some reason. Secondly, I didn't want to think of Emma in _that_ way. We're just extremely close friends. Anything more might ruin that bond we've shared, and I would never want to lose that.

And yet…

"…And we'll continue our look at the psychic theory tomorrow." Mr. Kondo finished, turning to the class so that his thin, pointed face could be seen. I noticed, besides the fact that he let his goatee grow a little, that he was wearing a pair of yellow-tinted shades. He smiled and waved toward the door. "Have a nice day, everyone."

As everyone began to mill out of the classroom, I spotted Emma up ahead, talking excitedly to Mr. Kondo. He too was a past resident of Tokyo, and had come to live here permanently shortly after the city was destroyed. She was probably telling him the good news. The three of us are all on good terms.

Sure enough, as I approached, he looked up at me and grinned. "Really, now?" he was saying to Emma as he turned his attention to me. "Well, I wish the two of you the best of luck. You'll have to fill me in when you return."

"Thanks." I replied. "And we will."

"It won't be for a few months," Emma said. "Once we're not so hard-pressed with studies, we'll be going." She gave me a wink here.

Mr. Kondo chuckled. "This doesn't mean I'll be going any easier on you both. I'm still expecting good results. But either way, enjoy yourselves. Tokyo is…Well, at least _was_, a good city."

Emma and I nodded to him, then turned and walked out into the hall. I could feel Mr. Kondo watching me as I left. For some reason, the way he had smiled had given me an ominous feeling, like there was something hidden there.

_Wow,_ I thought. _Maybe I _am_ being overly paranoid._

No sooner had I thought this then when I was suddenly shoved into a wall by someone. The next thing I knew, I was staring into a grinning face, the eyes hidden by the brim of a baseball cap.

"And where do you think you're going?" he whispered, his toothy grin spreading.

I sighed with realization, shoving the "attacker" off me. "What the hell, Trevor!"

Trevor Wilcox pulled the black baseball cap up higher onto his head, revealing his bright green eyes and a few strands of reddish hair. He was still smirking broadly. Behind his tall frame, Emma was giggling. Catching my eye, she stopped abruptly.

"Chill out, man." Trevor said, shaking his head slowly. "I was just helping keep you alert. Consider it defensive training from a friend."

Despite my irritation, I managed a quick laugh. I met Trevor back in high school, and Emma and I have been friends with him since then. He's a bit rude and is considered a punk and a delinquent by a lot of people, but he's really a kind person. He's a year older then me, and very athletic. A lot of girls like him, and this hasn't helped tone down his ego. Still, I get along with him well.

"So," I asked, "is there any particular reason for ambushing me out here, or are you just bored?"

"Normally, it's the last one," he said, letting his broad grin drop. "But I came for a reason. You and Emm and I haven't gotten together in a while, y'know. Figured I'd give an invitation."

Before I could speak, Emma said "What is it?"

"Well, seeing that Halloween is coming up soon," he said, stepping back so he could see us both, "I wondered if you guys would like to go to the lighthouse tonight. You know, just hangin' out like old times. Maybe get into the swing of things early."

"The lighthouse?" I asked. The old place was rumored (of course) to be haunted, and was also a historical landmark. There really wasn't a lot to do on the grounds around the place…I had a sneaking suspicion Trevor had something slightly illegal in mind. He usually does.

Emma seemed to be thinking the same thing, as our eyes met and she nodded. To my surprise, though, she said "Actually, that might be fun! What time should we come?"

I moaned to myself. Trevor smirked again. "It's a Friday. Ten or so should work. Just be prepared for a little mischief, ok?"

"With you, that's a given," I remarked. Against my better judgment, I decided to go along. "Fair enough. I'm in. We'll meet you there."

"Good," said Trevor. "I'm glad to know the Halloween spirit isn't wasted on you guys."

Emma glanced at her watch. "Sorry to cut this short, but I gotta run. My next class is coming up soon. We'll work things out later." Then she turned and hurried off down the corridor.

As I watched her go, Trevor nudged me in with his elbow slyly. "So," he whispered, the teasing evident in his voice, "anything _interesting_ happen between you and her?"

"Oh shut up," I growled, pushing him away. I could feel my face turning red.

"Fine. Be in denial," he said exasperatedly. "But I can tell. I've known you guys for years, and she's definitely interested in you."

I sighed, than began to explain. "I told you before. Trevor. She's my best friend. That's it."

Trevor smiled slightly and shook his head again. "Whatever, Andrew. But you're just letting a golden opportunity waltz by. If you don't make your move, someone else will." He turned to go, than said "I can see when I'm not wanted. Keep in mind what I said, though. I'll meet you later tonight, right?"

"Yeah. Right," I said quietly. Trevor stood watching me for a second, then waved and strode off in the opposite direction Emma had gone. A good-looking blond girl seemed to be waiting for him at the turn of the hall, and she perked up as he approached. Hefting yet another deep sigh, I turned slowly and walked away, my eyes fixed to the tiled floor. A number of conflicting emotions were drifting through me. Maybe Trevor had a point. I had been loveless for a long time, and I was starting to wonder if my stubborn nature was keeping me from some truth.

For some reason, I suddenly thought of the bat-boy from my dreams. A slight sense of dread washed over me. I hoped that the evening meeting at the lighthouse wouldn't bring some sort of trouble.

---

"I was starting to wonder if you were gonna show."

His usual smug self, Trevor stood in the covered doorway of the red brick building, snickering at Emma and I as we finished trudging through the torrential downpour to the lighthouse. The rainstorm had started up just a few minutes before Emma came by my house. And being the gentlemen, I had held the umbrella for her as we walked through town to the place. As a result, I was sopping wet, cold, and crabby at being called up here in this weather. I gave Trevor an icy look.

Emma, being under the umbrella the whole time, was a little more enthusiastic. "Hi, Trevor! We made it!" she said happily. Rainy conditions always put her in a good mood, for some reason.

"Please tell me we're not going to hang out here, in the rain," I said darkly. Slogging up here in the dark and the rain hadn't done much for my mood.

"Got it covered," he said simply, and he pushed the wooden lighthouse door behind him, which swung open silently. I gawked at him, but he merely smirked and pulled a key from his jeans pocket.

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not even gonna ask where you got that." I said. Trevor laughed, than stepped backward into the dark room. I glanced sideways at Emma. "Remind me again why you coaxed me into this?"

She just smiled, her eyes narrowing. "Where's your sense of adventure? We used to sneak in here all the time as kids, and we never got caught once. Come on! This is for old time's sake!"

I was about to argue that we weren't kids anymore and that the consequences for being caught were much harsher now, but Emma giggled and grabbed my hand, pulling me into the lighthouse behind her. I was led down a shadowy corridor, past a door marked with a _Lighthouse Staff Only_ sign, than emerged into a wide chamber, dimly lit by a single candle sitting on the stone floor. Looking up, I could see an aged spiral staircase following the circular walls up into the darkness. The distant crash of waves could be heard through the patter of rain here, as well as a distant rumble of thunder. It was indeed spooky, as I had expected.

Trevor emerged from the shadows across from Emma and I, the candlelight casting an eerie glow on his face. "See? What'd I tell you?" he said, confidently looking around the interior as if he owned the place. "No one's going to come around here during the storm. We're set!"

"I dunno," I said slowly. Despite the fact that we were doing something illegal by trespassing, I had gut feeling that something was off, somehow. I sighed. "Sure, we did this when we were young, but we're all pretty much adults now. It seems so…immature."

Trevor just rolled his eyes at me, than settled himself into cross-legged sitting position in the candlelight, the brim of his baseball cap casting an unsettling shadow over his eyes. Once again, I was reminded of bat-boy, and that really gave me the creeps. Emma, meanwhile, was gazing upward in awe, her mouth open in a weird sense of wonder. She giggled, breaking away from me to bask in the flickering glow. I hadn't realized until then that she had been clasping my hand the whole time before.

A good feeling came over me, and my worries seemed to take a backseat. Here I was, with my two best friends, on a stormy night. Just the three of us, laughing and joking and being together, like old times. The next thing I knew, I had joined the little huddle around the candle.

"Well, since we _are_ here, we might as well make the best of it." I relented, receiving broad smiles from my friends. I chuckled. "Hey Trev. Did you bring anything to drink?"

---

"Ok. Ok. I got one," Trevor said, after his fit of laughter had subsided. He gave a mock evil sneer. "This is an old classic…So anyway, this couple are out on their first date, right? Well, the guy, hoping to get lucky, drives his girlfriend up into this remote spot in the woods…"

"Oh please," I said, tossing an empty soda can aside. "Everybody's heard that story before. It's not that scary."

Trevor made a face at me. "Shut up. It is so. Don't you think so, Emm?"

Emma yawned in response. It had been three or four hours since we had gotten there, and even I was starting to feel the insistent tug of sleep on my eyelids. The candle had melted almost down to its base, and the rain still beat relentlessly against the building. Still, I was enjoying myself. I hadn't felt this relaxed in a long time.

"Don't tell me you guys are crapping out on me already." Trevor muttered. "If you're going to fall asleep, I might as well ditch you guys and go home."

"Maybe," I said, trying to stifle my own yawn. "I'm pretty much out of good ghost stories."

Emma, who had been quiet for a while, suddenly snapped up and said "Hey! I just remembered one! Did I ever tell either of you about Lil' Slugger"

"Huh?" I said, looking up sharply. I was suddenly nervous again. In the background, a distant thunderclap sounded, lingering in my ears.

_An impish smile…_

"Lil' Slugger?" Trevor asked, edging a little closer, now interested. "Nope. What are you talking about?"

"I heard it while I was in Japan," Emma explained. "It was an urban legend that a lot of people were talking about at the time. Apparently, there had been a series of assaults in the area, and they were all committed by the same person: a elementary school-kid with a baseball bat."

I gulped. This was getting too freaky. The roll of thunder lingered still on my hearing, as if recorded there. My mouth was starting to go dry. What if…

_No. That's just coincidence,_ I thought. At least, I hoped it was.

Trevor shrugged, almost matter-of-factly. "So? Some little psycho played to many video games and started attacking people. It happens a lot these days. Some kids can't figure out what's real and what's not."

"I was getting to that," replied Emma. The lenses of her glasses had become twin mirrors of light in the glow. "Supposedly, Lil' Slugger only appears to those who are emotionally cornered. Someone who has reached they're limit and is stressed or scared or angry."

I could feel perspiration forming on my brow as I listened, almost enraptured by her words and unable to tear away, though warning sirens were blaring in my head and my stomach was filled with butterflies. Each new sentence seemed to match, more and more, to the phantom that had visited my dreams. The thunder in my ears was growing louder by the second. Something shadowy was forming in the back of my mind.

Still, Emma pressed on. "They say that the baseball bat he carries is golden, and bent at a crooked angle, like a dog's leg…"

My mouth hung open in unconscious shock. In my thoughts, the shadow began to take the shape of a figure, moving through lightless black toward me. The noise in my head was becoming louder…Louder…

"…He also wears a pair of golden rollerblades, and he comes at his victims almost to fast to be stopped…"

The rolling sound had nearly drowned out the words just spoken. Didn't the others hear it? I cast quick, frightened glances between them both. They seemed relaxed, as if nothing was happening. How could they not notice? How could they not notice the sound, which had changed slowly from the fading roar of a thunderclap _to the sound of multiple rolling wheels, growing closer and closer?_

"…When he does strike, he appears out of the shadows and moves toward his target…"

I felt trapped, like I was caught in some hellish daydream. The approaching figure had become distinct as he drew nearer. God! Why couldn't they see him? Was I going insane? I couldn't control my thoughts. My vision was becoming blurred, replaced by the horrid apparition that now rolled toward me on golden rollerblades, the ruined bat dragging in his wake.

I couldn't move. Frozen in place, I watched helplessly as the boy now known as Lil' Slugger drew nearer and nearer.

"…And just before he strikes…"

He slowly raised the golden bat above his head. He was almost on top of me.

"…He smiles."

He smiled, more chilling and clear than anything I had dreamed, before he swung his twisted weapon downward.

_PAIN!_

For a single, almost eternally long moment, there existed nothing but a searing pain that shot through my mind. In that brief instant, everything else had gone. The one thing I could gather was that the pain came not from outside my head, but from _within._

Then came the welcome comfort of slipping into thoughtless emptiness.

---

"_Andrew…"_

The voice of an angel cut through the void. Why did…?

"_Andrew!"_

It sounded so…familiar…I couldn't be dead, could I?

"_ANDREW!"_

Closer…I could feel something coming back.

"Andrew!"

I stared up into a frightened face. A face wearing a pair of glasses.

I was lying flat on my back on the cold concrete floor of the lighthouse, with Emma and Trevor crouched over me.

"Ow," I moaned, coughing slightly.

Emma smiled with what looked like relief, grabbing me by my shoulders and helping me sit up. She gave me a quick hug, than asked, "Are you alright? What happened?"

"I'm…not sure," I answered, looking around the darkened room once again. In reality, I wasn't really sure what had just happened myself. The last thing I remembered was…

"You passed out," Trevor said, also looking concerned. "All of a sudden, you screamed really loud and fell over, and started twitching. You were like that for a minute or so, than you woke up."

I rubbed the back of my head, feeling a small lump that was now forming. I had hit my head against the floor, but that didn't explain what had just happened before. I was not just confused, but a little scared. What really _had_ happened?

"I'm…ok, I think." I said, and I stood up slowly. My head swam slightly, but that was to be expected. All I knew was that I wanted to leave this place, go home, and get some sleep. Maybe that would clear my head a bit.

"Are you sure?" Emma asked, standing up. "I mean, you were convulsing pretty badly there. I was afraid you were having some sort of seizure."

I forced a rough smile. "Seriously, guys. I'm fine. Whatever that was, it's not effecting me now."

Emma still looked doubtful. "I still think you should see a doctor or something…"

"If Andy says he's fine, I believe him," interjected Trevor, though he also sounded apprehensive. "And anyway, it's probably safer, with the storm and all, to take him back to his house so he can go to bed."

Emma turned to Trevor, back to me, back to Trevor, than gave a stiff nod. Although I figure she thought otherwise, it was a better idea. I was relieved that Trevor had taken over for me. I needed sleep, and badly.

In silence, we snuffed what was left of the candle and left the dark, empty lighthouse. As we stepped out into the still pouring rain, Trevor re-locked the door with his pocket-key, than slipped the flat metal object under the door.

"My car's parked down the slope," Trevor said, pulling the brim of his cap low as he stepped out into the night. "I'll give both of you a ride back."

I nodded, and began to follow my friends through the dark, down the slippery paved path that led to the lighthouse. The rain pattered down on me, soaking through my clothes, yet I hardly noticed. I was still deeply troubled by what had happened earlier, the details now weighing heavily on my mind. Emma's story had triggered something, much like the Maromi doll had when I first received it. Only this had been jarring and terrifying.

Behind me, something slid across the wet ground. Had I known what I would have seen, I wouldn't have looked back.

Behind me, on the rain-soaked path, stood…him. Beads of water clung to his golden bat, held loosely at his side, and drops fell from the brim of his cap, which still shadowed his eyes. As I stared at a loss, he smiled.

"Thank you," he whispered, and I watched, utterly stupefied, as Lil' Slugger whirled around and skated off into the dark night.

---

**In a dark, cluttered room, a shadowy figure watches a dusty computer screen, the light from  
the screen playing over his gaunt features.**

**Displayed on the iridescent monitor is this:**

Enter Username: goumahunter34

Enter Password: ------

Processing...

Welcome, goumahunter34. Please enter your search query below.

: goldenmonkey

Searching...

1 match(s) found for keyword "goldenmonkey":

**USER PROFILE: goldenmonkey**

Cornered...

Cornered...

Who's been cornered?

Akio Kawazu...

Yuichi Taira...

Harumi Chono...

Taeko Hirukawa...

Makoto Kozuka...

And...?

Has TheHolyWarrior become TheGoldenFox?

Has TheGoldenFox become TheHolyWarrior?

So prophecises the apprentice.

---

**Wow! Two things done in one day (just this morning, I posted a short story based on One Piece. Go look at if you like One Piece). Anyway, Chapter 2 everyone! This came off as only being so-so in my eyes. Sorry about this if you feel the same way. I have to set things in motion, and the next chapter will hopefully be better.**

**As I was in the process of writing this chapter, I managed to get the Paranoia Agent OST (Love it!). I've decided that, as an interesting bit, the chapters in this story shall be named after song titles. It's definently good music, and it helped keep my inspiration going. I'd like to give special thanks here to Susumu**** Hirasawa, who composed the music.**

** Finally, a big thanks to my reveiwers, especially TURMOIL and Terrylennium (I'm flattered!). You guys help keep me going, and your comments fuel my ambition. Thanks again! And remember to keep sending your Reveiws. Constructive criticism is welcome. **

**  
Be prepared, folks! I'm in the process of writing Chapter 3, where things begin to get...interesting. Until then, ciao!**

_-Booster_**  
**


	3. Escape

**DREAM ISLAND OBSESSIONAL PARK**

**THIRD CHAPTER: ESCAPE **_  
_

_In my dreams, I see an ancient temple…_

_Interesting…I can almost hear the epic orchestra music on the humid air._

_The dark, lush jungle around me is teeming with activity. The sounds of birds, insects, and what sounds like howling primates pierces the air. Ropy vines spread out from the border of the jungle and snake their way through the ruined stone causeway in front of me. The forest, it seems, is eager to take back what it once had._

_But the temple itself is the most striking feature. Built into the face of a wet cliff, the intricately carved entrance is choked with vines and small ferns, slowly crumbling the stonework. Above the dark opening is a statue, carved from the cliff rock itself, of a woman, her hands clenched over her face as if weeping. Small waterfalls spill from between her carved fingers, collecting in shallow basins on either side of the path_

_How unsettling…But beautiful._

_Of course, I also notice that around the temple archway are carvings of a familiar dog with large, round eyes. Maromi._

_I now find myself drawn into the mouth of the temple, pulled inside by an invisible force. The darkness around me grows quickly as the light from the outside fades behind. Suddenly, a soft golden glow illuminates the dreary, dusty hallway. It travels along with me, like a sphere of light from a torch. Hmm. With no obvious source either._

_Further and further I go, passing through corridors and antechambers. The walls are coated with layers of mold and fungus from the damp cavern, and occasionally paintings of the eerie canine can be seen through the gloom. I pass a few branching arches and tunnels, but I stay drifting on a set course._

_And now, besides the occasional drip of water or ominous rumble of the earth, I hear a soft sound. I can't quite make it out, but it sounds like wind…No. A voice. An almost inaudible voice is echoing through the temple, chanting something too quiet to hear clearly. I shiver. The golden luminescence wavers slightly as I do, then holds firm, lighting my path. The soft echo is slowly growing louder._

_Unexpectedly, a door looms up in my path. A stone door that appears to have been blasted open, as evidenced by the gaping hole in it. A few faint traces of smoke still linger in the air around the portal, and through it I can see an orange, flickering light at the end of the corridor. Without hesitation, that invisible force pulls me through the gap and down the tunnel._

_And all at once, my journey halts at the end of the hall, which empties into a wide, round chamber. A domed stone ceiling, covered in impressions of Maromi, towers high above the room. A shaft of daylight shines from a hole at the apex of the dome, streaming down onto a stone alter directly below. Perched on top of the later is a golden idol, shaped like…what else? Maromi. Big surprise._

_But I'm not the only one in the chamber. A pith-helmeted figure, silhouetted by the beam of daylight, stands before the alter, a torch clenched in one hand and a small cloth bag in the other. I can't tell weather the person is male or female, but an image of Harrison Ford comes to mind looking at the scene. I laugh, but the shadowy archeologist doesn't seem to notice my presence. Slowly, hesitantly, the figure sets the torch down and reaches for the idol. Those hands are shaking. It's not a nervous shaking, either._

_With a burst of nerves, the would-be tomb raider switches the idol with the cloth bag and freezes on the spot, expecting something to happen. About five seconds pass, and the person sighs and turns toward me, clutching the golden Maromi close as if it were a long-lost toy. Something about the scene makes my stomach churn._

_The calm is interrupted suddenly as a low, grinding noise issues from the other side of the domed chamber. From what I can see, a previously hidden stone door is moving upwards, revealing something standing in the darkness beyond. The archeologist starts, turning on the spot to look in the direction of the door. I hear the figure gasp and give a short cry of terror before turning around again and running straight toward me. Confused, I look past the retreating form to see that the door has just finished opening._

_There's a glint of gold, and the sound of wheels…Oh no._

_Oblivious to me, the treasure thief darts right past and down the corridor. I'm shocked to see that the Indiana-like person is, in fact, an old woman, looking scared beyond belief and dressed in explorer's garb. Panting and crying, she tries to make her escape going the way I had come._

_Turning my view back toward the chamber again, I have just enough time to see Lil' Slugger's devilish grin before his golden bat swings at my head._

---

Mia Hamilton shot up in bed, a hoarse cry escaping her lips. Unable to control it, she started to cough into a clenched fist, wheezing and trying to get air. A few seconds passed, and the hacking subsided away. She took a deep breath, let it out, and waited for her heart to stop beating so quickly. She hadn't had such a vivid nightmare in years…

The darkness of her room was suddenly pierced by harsh yellow light as the door to opposite side of her bed opened. She had to cup a hand over her eyes to block it out, and she squinted blearily at the uniformed woman who peered in at her. The light from the hall showed her thinning hair, her long face covered in wrinkles, her bare arms patched with ugly splotches. She used her free hand to pull her blankets up higher on her, and glared sleepily at the younger lady.

"Are you alright, Mrs. Hamilton?" the girl asked, looking concerned. Mia couldn't tell if the look was sincere or not. "I heard you coughing, and-"

"Don't you have any respect for privacy?" growled the old woman. She was in no mood to deal with being invaded in bed. "I'm fine. Leave me be so I can get some sleep."

The brunette gave her an odd look, than shrugged and closed the door. Mia scowled after her. These nurses were so nosy, and they seemed to be everywhere. Sighing to herself, she shifted around stiffly and reached to open the blinds of the window above her bed. Outside, in the little grassy courtyard, things looked pleasant and bright. She could see a few of the home's other residents out there, letting their old bones warm in the morning sun.

But the old woman didn't notice this much. All she saw was the cold concrete walls that surrounded the place, bordered on either side by other windowed rooms. She stared longingly at it. Beyond that wall, beyond the boring and featureless place she lived, was the rest of the world. Free of nagging nurses, of senile neighbors, of medication. Free of bland food and assisted living. Beyond that wall lay infinite possibility. Excitement. Wonder. Adventure…Freedom.

How she longed to be free again. To not be confined to this dull and predictable life away from society. Despite her age, a fire of wanderlust burned in her heart still. In her youth she had been full of adventurous spirit. The opportunity to try something new and unexpected was always hers to try. And now…well, she had her daughter-in-law to blame for her current situation.

She cast one last, mournful look at the blue skies beyond the wall before closing the blinds again. Then she stood up, feeling her muscles creak and her limbs groan in protest. Fortunately, she was a hale old woman, and it took more than a few stiff joints to slow her down. Checking her bedside calendar, her sour mood lifted slightly. It was Saturday, and that meant Will would be coming to visit. It was one of the few times her grandson could get away from his mother, and Mia always enjoyed their talks. He was very intelligent for a nine-year-old, and she loved him dearly.

A small smile crossed her aged features as she shuffled over to her closet and scanned the hanging articles of clothing. At least she had someone to talk to occasionally. Something to break the monotony of her life. In a way, it was the only escape she got…without actually trying to escape, that is.

Now there was something she'd tried before.

---

"You seem oddly chipper today, Mia."

"Was it the spring in my step that gave it away, doctor?" Mia joked, glancing sideways and upward at the much taller, younger man walking beside her. His large right hand rested calmly but firmly on her worn shoulder as they strolled across the sunlit courtyard. She shrugged in slight annoyance to get it off. "And how many time do I have to tell you? I'm perfectly capable of walking on my own! I'm not so damn old I need to rely on someone to guide my steps."

Dr. Nathan Waldon rubbed the removed hand through his brown beard in bewilderment. "Well, same can't be said for your testiness, I'm afraid. Sorry." He gave her an apologetic look. "It's a force of habit. Part of the job description, y'know."

Even though she had snapped, Mia smiled up at him playfully. The two had formed an odd bond between doctor and patient. Not that she _needed_ a doctor. But he volunteered at the home, and they had become friends. To Mia, Dr. Waldon was the only person she could commune with in the whole place. He possessed a lot of admirable qualities.

"Yeah," said the old woman. "I know. I just feel so out of place sometimes. Everyone else here is frail, or senile, or both. And here I am, surrounded by doting nurses and gray walls." She sighed. "You wouldn't understand."

"You'd be surprised," her companion replied. He wore a warm smirk. "I know it's hard to admit, and I'm not trying to be blunt or rude, but you're not getting any younger. Even I think you're healthier than the other retirees here, but you're here for a reason."

Mia cast her gaze downward, watching the cracks in the pavement as they walked. He did have a point, as much as she would have liked to deny it. She was getting on in years, and even her stubborn denial was beginning to waver in the face of the truth; that she wasn't as strong as she used to be, and maybe she did require some assisted living.

The doctor watched her with a sense of pity, than tried to cheer her up. "Well, look on the bright side. There are worse places you could be."

The old woman chuckled dryly. "True," she stated. "I could be living with my daughter-in-law."

Letting that last sentence hang in the air outside, the pair pushed their way through as set of polished glass doors into an air conditioned, cream-colored lobby. A few older residents, with walkers and respirators nearby, sat or shuffled about, going about whatever they were doing. But Mia and Dr. Waldon's attention was drawn to a black-haired boy of 9 years, sitting on a cushioned chair near another set of glass doors. He looked up as they entered, and his face lit.

"Gramma!"

The doctor chuckled to himself as the boy stood and jogged to his grandmother's open arms, receiving a warm hug. No wonder she had been so eager to come down here. Nathan also became aware of a well-dressed woman, slightly younger than himself, approaching them. Her auburn, shoulder-length hair was well groomed, and her heavily made-up face only did so much to hide the sense of smugness and self-importance that was very evident in her hawk-like features.

It didn't take long for him to remember that she was the manager of the place.

Mia looked over the boy's shoulder at the woman, and she had to force herself not to scowl. The woman, in turn, gave the elderly lady a quick look of mirth before smiling at the doctor. "How are things, Dr. Waldon?" she said simply, moving a few stray strands of hair out of her face idly.

"Fine as usual, miss Cannery," he replied, sweating a little under her piercing gaze. No matter what she was saying or doing, that woman always had an accusing aura around her. Might as well put in the good word for Mia while he was at it. "Mrs. Hamilton has been doing well for herself. One of the healthiest residents here. I don't suppose you're here on business, though."

She chuckled, which sounded extremely false. "No. Just dropping my son off for the afternoon. I have some things to do around town anyway. Nasty weather last night, don't you agree?"

While the two talked, Mia had pulled back from her grandson to get a better look at him. She ruffled his hair playfully, and he giggled. "I swear! You get a little bigger every time I see you," she stated.

Will smiled. Most kids would be a little embarrassed by such a comment, but not he. "I missed you, gramma. Mom won't let me visit more often, but I'd like to."

"Is that so?" Mia gave a scornful look to her daughter-in-law's back. "Well, never mind that. I wish you could come more as well. I get lonely here all by myself. Say, have you heard from your father recently? How has he been?"

The boy went on to describe how his father had been doing. Mia's son now lived along the Oregon coast, and tried to keep in touch with his family despite the efforts of his ex-wife to lose any connection with him. Mia, needless to say, rather despised the woman that had once been married to her son, and had no doubt in the mind that she despised her as well. And for various reasons…

But that didn't matter now. The elderly lady now had some time to spend with her grandchild, and forget for a few hours just how confined she really felt in this place. Without these little, seemingly insignificant visits, Mia didn't know how long she could last in the home. In her own mind, she'd likely die of boredom.

Will's mother had finished giving the doctor a polite goodbye, and her gaze settled on her son. "Alright, dear. I'll be back in an hour to pick you up. After this is Bible Class, and I won't have you being late." Her stare shifted to Mia, and a warning look flashed across her face that read: don't give him any funny ideas. She turned to go silently. Mia's loathing for that woman rose every time she saw her.

"Bye Mom," called Will. The boy's face had fallen somewhat.

---

"Gramma?"

"Hmm?" The old woman looked sideways at Will. The two were sitting on a bench just outside the home, with a pleasant view of the rest of Coltin and the sparkling ocean in the distance. Dr. Waldon (bless him) had given them the all clear to spend some time outside. There was a small park just across the parking lot of the senior center, with a grassy knoll dotted with oak trees that one could get a remarkable vista of the town and sea. Most of the residents were allowed to come out here, under supervision. Mia was a rare case in which they felt it best to keep her within the home's boundaries. Again, her daughter-in-law had a hand it. But trying to run away on several occasions hadn't helped matters either. The doctor was taking a minor risk for her sake.

"What is it, dear?" she asked.

The dark-haired kid fidgeted a little, looking down at his feet as he let them dangle freely. "Well," he started slowly. She could tell he was anxious about something. "I…Gramma, why is Mom so mean to you?"

That caught her off guard slightly. So he'd noticed. Well, it was hard to hide. He was a smart boy, after all.

"Why do you say that?" she said.

"It's…easy to see. Mom always seems angry when I ask if I can come and visit. She tries to talk me out of it sometimes, like making excuses or telling me other things I could be doing with my free time. And she's always been so short with you." His words, from Mia's perspective, seemed to be coming out easier and easier. "I know she and Dad don't get along, but why is she like that about you?"

Mia couldn't help but smile a little. "No use hiding anything from you, it seems. Well, your mother and I, we just don't see eye to eye. It's been like that since the day I met her, before you were born." She tried to think of a way to continue, without being blunt about her reasoning. "You see, your mother can be a bit…extreme, when it comes to her religious beliefs."

Will looked at her suddenly, and his face brightened. "You think so too?"

Another surprise revelation for the old woman. They'd talked like this before, and Will had expressed that he went along with what his Christian mother would have wanted because she made him. But now, she began to chuckle at the statement. Confused, Will asked, "What's so funny, gramma?"

The woman paused, sighing away the giggles and staring out at the sunlit ocean. "You're a funny kid, y'know?" She punched his arm lightly. "I always thought…Well, sorry. What do you have to say about it? Oh don't worry," she laughed, as his expression changed again. "Anything said here is our secret. Just between us, ok?"

The nine-year-old grinned. "Ok. That sounds good. What it is, mom's always been real cranky when it comes to talk about God. She tells me she wants me to grow up to be a better Christian than she ever was, and she's always giving me rules about what and what not to do. She scolds me a lot, when I say something she says is bad to even think about. And they're just little things, too."

Mia nodded. It made sense. Will's mother had been very religious for as long as the old woman could remember. It was just like her to try and force the same steadfast faith onto her son. It wasn't that Mia had any qualms against the Christian belief, but that controlling attitude of hers.

Scowling, she said "That sounds like your mother. That's why we don't get along. Because we don't think the same way. She wants everyone around her to convert." She paused again, than said, "How does it make you feel?"

He didn't waste a second. "I feel…trapped, I guess. She won't let me do a lot of the things I want to do. It makes me angry, but I can't argue with her. I love mom, but I don't understand why she tries so hard to make me like this. It scares me a little, when she keeps telling me that I can't stray from this path or I'll go to Hell when I die."

The boy sniffled, and wiped a hand under his chin. He stared back down at his feet again. Mia had a sympathetic frown on her face, and she wrapped her grandson in a one-armed hug. He sniffed again.

"Is that really the way God is?" he asked, a few tears beginning to show on his face. "Is it? Because it doesn't feel right to me."

"Oh. My dear boy." She smiled warmly at him. "I'm glad you told me this. I only wish I had had your emotional strength when I was your age. Now, listen here. Your mother may say that there's only one way to get to heaven, but she's basing here entire life by a religious code. God wouldn't have given us free wills if we weren't meant to make our own decisions. There's no set path, and God doesn't make a distinction between anybody. The greater spirit is as much a part of us as we are a part of it, and the love is there.

Will's expression looked a little more hopeful. "Really?"

"Really. It doesn't matter who you are, or what you look like, or how you act. Your mom just doesn't understand that. I'm sorry to say, there's really not much I can do about it. Just keep an open mind and you'll do fine, alright?"

The child managed a small smile. "I'll…I'll try. It can be hard. But I feel a lot better after telling you all this. Like I said, I feel so pinned down by everything that I barely get a chance to be myself."

Mia gave a quick, sad "Heh," before looking back toward the stunning view. The lighthouse, in particular, grabbed her attention. It sat on a little rise near the sea, and it was silhouetted beautifully against the shining surf. It looked so proud and strong, standing on the very edge of the land and facing the wild blue. Mia had an odd sense of aged grandeur. The simple beauty of the moment captured her, entrancing the old woman with a feeling of happiness.

"Pinned down…" she said, more to herself than her grandson. "There's something else. I only wish I didn't feel the same way."

Someone cleared their throat loudly behind them. They both turned in their seats, surprised by the sound, to find they were not alone. Mia could feel the slight bliss die almost instantly. For there, in her white business suite, stood Will's mother, her arms folded across her chest and an agonizingly unreadable expression on her face.

"Enjoying yourselves?" she asked. She continued without waiting for a reply. "It's time to go, Will. Say goodbye to grandma."

Will stood up, looking concerned. "But mom…" he began to protest.

"Now," ordered his mother, her tone instantly becoming authoritive.

The boy's mouth hung open, like he wanted to speak further. But he closed it, and with a downcast expression he turned and hugged Mia. The old woman returned the embrace tightly. She felt anger and fear brewing inside her, and all she wanted to do right now was cling to her loving grandchild. That…that witch…She must have heard. Heard what she was saying.

But they broke apart, and the boy went to his mother's side. "Go wait in the car, dear," she said, and her avian eyes flicked and locked with Mia's. "I need to talk to your grandmother."

Obediently, Will trudged down the hill toward the parking lot, casting one backwards glance back before continuing on his way. Both Mrs. Cannery and Mia watched him go, but once he was out of sight, the younger woman whipped her head around to face the elderly lade, and her eyes flashed dangerously.

"It's no wonder," she said, her voice dangerously quiet. "I should have known all along. It was you who was giving him such blasphemous ideas and thoughts. What have you been telling him?"

Mia returned the icy gaze with her own fiery one. "The truth, Janice," she growled. "He's just a kid, for God's sake! You're forcing him into a life he doesn't need or want!"

Janice looked livid. "I'm saving him from damnation. And I intend to keep things the way they are. Who are you to tell me how to raise my son?"

"His grandmother who loves him, that's who! I know for a fact that he has no real freedom, just like me! Does he ever talk to you? Huh?"

There was a pause, an almost eternally long one. A slight breeze blew some dark red and bright gold leaves from the trees, and sent them dancing through the air around the two.

"You really should be more polite, you old bitch." Janice Cannery's tone had become venomous. "Out of the goodness of my heart, I let you live in my establishment. You have constant care. You get your meals for free. You have security and safety. I do his, even after I divorced your son. And here you are, trying to steer my only child on the path of darkness." She smiled dangerously. "Heathens like you deserve worse."

Mia's hands, clenched into fists, were shaking. Her teeth were gritted in rage. Sweat began to appear on her brow. She wondered now if she had ever felt more hatred toward a person in her life.

The younger woman continued. "You fill my son's head with lies. There is only one path to salvation, and I will not have him deciding otherwise. Everything else is a lie. And lies need to be put to rest." That cruel smile grew. "Maybe I'll have you committed to the retirement center permanently, so you can't spread your evil ideas into the open world anymore." That smile became a leering grin. "I'm sure I'll think of something."

She couldn't take it. Throwing her fists up, Mia screamed in rage.

"You're only doing this to kill your own guilt! Don't forget, I know what happened! That Will is-"

The old woman got no further, as Janice's palm made contact with the side of Mia's face. The force of the slap sent her sprawling to the ground. Painfully, Mia tried to stand, her cheek stinging painfully. All she could manage was sitting up. And standing over her, Will's mother's face was a portrait of sheer rage.

"Don't…you _dare_…speak of that!" Janice breathed. "You…You've crossed the line! I'm going to make sure you _never_ go outside again!"

Trying to stand, Mia gave a little cry and fell again. This…She couldn't do that. There was no way. Again, she tried to stand, and again she tumbled back onto her back. Janice simply stood over her, breathing heavily. Suddenly, she looked over her shoulder, and her expression changed from seething to concerned in no time flat. Straining to see, Mia's heart fell. One of the nurses (in fact, the one who had woken her that morning,) was coming up the hill toward them.

"What happened?" the woman asked, stopping in front of them.

Janice took on a slightly agitated appearance. "You people are so negligent! Mrs. Hamilton here shouldn't be wandering around outdoors! Don't you know about her condition?"

Mia tried to stand a third time. Had her joints finally given out on her? The nurse, being the ditz Mia thought she was, said "Condition? Is that why Mrs. Hamilton has collapsed?"

The old woman saw a glimmer of triumph in the younger lady's eye. "Yes. She can't be out in sunlight at all. It's a rare condition. I think I listed it in her medical records."

_No…This can't be._

This was it. The end. She's be trapped for good this time. The records would be rigged, because Janice had access to them as manager. Every bit of hope was slipping through her fingers like sand.

Her desperate mind had only one option. With all her will, she forced herself to stand. Then she ran. Ran as hard as she could. Away from the others, too slow to react. Toward the town below. Every joint screamed at her to stop, but she knew the fate behind her was much worse.

A shout came from behind, and she heard footsteps. It was no good! They could move so much faster. She forced herself to run harder. She felt a hand touch her shoulder, and she instinctually thrust out with her left hand. She felt it clip the side of the nurse's face, and heard her yell.

Everything was a blur suddenly. She had tripped, and everything rolled by in sickening colors as she tumbled head over heels down the steep grassy hill. With an "Oof!" she landed, painfully, on her stomach. She was still in the park, and she could feel the grass underneath her, but the edge of it was just ahead. A street, and a residential neighborhood beyond that.

_Get up! Get up and keep going!_

Against the agony and weariness, Mia scrabbled to her feet and sprinted with all her might toward the street. She dared not cast a look back, for fear they were right behind her. She could her them shouting, but her hearing seemed muffled. She only knew she needed to get away.

The street was empty, and the elderly woman dashed across as fast as her old legs would carry her. Soon, she had crossed into the neighborhood, and was out of sight.

---

_I need to get away…_

The old woman walked, tired beyond measure, down a dark street, the only light coming from the streetlamps overhead. Besides her footsteps, only the chirping of crickets broke the silence. Her body wanted so badly to rest, but she forced herself to keep going. She had to keep going.

"_Even I think you're healthier than the other retirees here, but you're here for a reason"_

If they found her, she'd never be free again. They'd take her back to the place she'd grown to despise. There was no hope. She would run and run, but she had no strength. She was old, and she felt that now more than ever. Weak and exhausted.

_What am I going to do?_

She'd wandered blindly through the town for hours, and still could find no solace. She knew she'd be caught eventually. She couldn't' allow that. And yet, what say did she have?

_I can't stop…_

A loud horn broke through the still of the evening, and Mia was suddenly blinded by bright light. Having not realized it, she had wandered right into the road, and a car sped toward her. Thinking quickly, the woman forced her aged body to leap out of the way. The car shot past, not even bothering to slow down, and Mia landed hard on the curb. She cried out as pain shot through her knees, and slumped sideways.

_No…I can't stop. No matter what…_

Fortunately, a stack of trash bags on the curb softened her fall. Lying there, amidst the garbage, Mia felt tears welling in her eyes.

_Is there anything left?_

Weeping in pain and exhaustion, Mia pushed herself up and tried to stand. She couldn't she had no strength left. She was stuck kneeling on the sidewalk, her knees wounded, her spirit broken.

_Help me…Please…_

She put her hands down to support her and cried harder. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw a flash of gold under a streetlight further down.

_I can't do this…Someone, please…_

She could vaguely hear an odd sound behind her, but she paid no heed.

_Help me…_

It was getting louder.

_Help me!_

Louder.

"HELP ME!" she screamed, throwing her hands in the air.

It only occurred to her then that the noise behind her, that rhythmic rolling noise, had gotten very close. She turned, and the yellow glow of the streetlight above, had a moment to see a boy on in-line and wearing a baseball cap grin at her before he swung his baseball bat at her head.

---

"Andrew? What's wrong?"

Looking up from the table, I stared blankly across at Emma, who looked concerned. She'd been like that ever since the lighthouse incident the other day. Always on the edge of being worried about me. Then again, I felt like I'd just come out of some odd trance. For a split second, I'd felt a twinge in my head, and I'd clearly heard a distant, metallic _crack_ sort-of sound. But now, I was only aware of the Spanish guitar that was playing over the radio in the background…Odd.

Odd things have been happening since last night…

Answering her question, I shook my head and smiled. "Nothing. I'm fine. I was just…thinking."

She smiled in turn and grabbed a chip out of the little basket we'd been given. "What about?" she pried.

I shrugged. "I guess…I was thinking about the Japan thing, I haven't gotten that out of my mind since you told me."

Giggling, she replied, "Don't get too excited. It's still a ways away."

"I know," I said. I looked out the restaurant's window, which was right next to our booth, and looked toward the dark ocean. We'd made it a little tradition of ours to come to this taco place every Saturday we could, and we typically had a good time chatting it up and eating. But I couldn't help but feel antsy. Distracted, almost. What I had seen the previous night still bothered me. Lil' Slugger…

"You know," began Emma, and she fidgeted a little, "if Trevor doesn't show up soon, we might look like we're…on a date…or something."

I chuckled nervously. "Heh…Yeah. I…"

Fortunately for me (and for Emma), the waitress appeared to break the awkward moment, giving us out ordered drink and asking what we'd like. Trevor appeared soon afterward, and it ended up being an enjoyable meal. Even so…I had a feeling of foreboding. Like something big was going to happen soon. Something dire.

Why am I acting so paranoid?

---

**In a dark, cluttered room, a computer screen suddenly glows.**

**Displayed on the iredescent moniter is this:**

Enter Username: goumahunter34

Enter Password: ------

Processing...

Welcome, goumahunter34. You have 1 unread message(s).

-From: horse

-FWD: 0o0o0o0o0o0o0

To begin...

The apprentice has learned the language of the animals. But alas! He is too late to stop the advance. By moonlight, a battle rages on distant shores. The sleeping tiger dreams of the golden shoes, as the ancient ivory tower crumbles beneath the onslaught. The deceiver whispers of dark promises. A lone wolf howls in agony. A rooster hunts the Holy Warrior, and becomes the hunted. Where has the Ancient Master gone to? And then...

---

**Well, it took me awhile, but here's the third chapter. I dunno...Setting the mood is hard. I wasn't too satisfied how this turned out, but that might just be me. I'm sure (like the case of my last chapter) I'll come back later with a totally fresh eye and be pleasently surprised. Who knows.**

**Anyway, I'll keep this short. Thanks to all who've read and reveiwed. I really appreciate it. I also appreciate your patience. When I'm pressured to write, it really slows me down. But you were all very kind to wait so long. Here's hoping you all enjoy my latest installment. Leave a Reveiw if you feel so inclined.  
**

**Well, chapter 4 comes next! I'll get to it in due course. Until then, avoid being backed into emotional corners...You know why. Mwa!**

_-Booster_


End file.
